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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502840">Jenga!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbhprincess/pseuds/dbhprincess'>dbhprincess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No Longer Alone [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 03:01:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>968</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27502840</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbhprincess/pseuds/dbhprincess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Connor and Hank flirt shamelessly while pretending they're not flirting at all.</p><p>A HankCon AU inspired by the 2015 film <em>The Martian</em>. Takes place before the events of <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465250">No Longer Alone</a>.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hank Anderson/Connor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>No Longer Alone [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2006686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Jenga!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was first written as part of a <a href="https://twitter.com/i/events/1294694026780631042">thread series</a> on Twitter.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Commander Anderson walked into the Rec, Connor almost lost it – his hold on the playing card in his hand, that is. Towel slung around his thick neck, sweat sticking his t-shirt to the valley between his rounded pecks, sweatpants hanging loosely around his hips, the top man on the spacecraft commanded Connor’s attention as surely as he commanded his crew. He strode up to the table where Connor was assembling playing cards in an intricate construction and dropped heavily into the chair opposite.</p><p>Connor put his hand holding the card down on the table and watched a bead of sweat slide down the commander’s neck and into the gray chest hair below. He’d come into the community room at the start of his rest period with nothing on his mind but completing the card tower he’d started the day before. Now however, his mind was consumed by something else entirely.</p><p>He cleared his throat delicately and made a very stupid observation. “Been working out, I see.”</p><p>Commander Anderson raised his eyebrows, giving him a sardonic once-over. “NASA really does only recruit the best and brightest minds, doesn’t it?”</p><p>If Connor blushed, he blamed his embarrassment over his foolishness and not, in any way, the tangible drag of the big man’s eyes down his chest and back up again. “Well, somebody has to keep you old guys up to date,” he retorted, and the commander grinned, flashing the captivating gap in his teeth that Connor had memorized the first day he met him. “Technology evolves fast, you know,” he continued, flustered and a little defensive.</p><p>Commander Anderson leaned forward and plucked the card from Connor’s hand. “So they tell me,” he replied, looking at the card, then at Connor. “Good thing I’ve never had any trouble keeping up.” He slid the card slowly back between Connor’s fingers with a smirk.</p><p>Connor couldn’t deny the meaning of his blush anymore.</p><p>The moment caught and held between them, and Connor's eyes flicked from where their hands almost touched to the brilliant blue eyes before him. Then the commander blinked and sat back, coughing once into a large fist. Connor told himself to get a grip. As casually as he could with suddenly clammy hands, he lifted the card to resume construction.</p><p>“You, uh…you going for the world record there or something?” Rubbing the back of his neck with his towel, Commander Anderson gestured at the elaborate tower of cards balanced on the table.</p><p>Connor lips twitched. “Hardly. Just flexing my engineering skills in an attempt to impress my commander. In vain, apparently.” He looked across the table, gathered courage from his fluttering heart, and winked.</p><p>Commander Anderson barked a laugh, bright eyes crinkling with delight. “Kid, if I heap any more praise on you, your head’s going to swell right off your shoulders. I’m already impressed with everything about you, and you know it.”</p><p>Connor couldn’t help but preen as he smiled politely and continued building, feigning a nonchalance he most certainly did not feel.</p><p>The commander took a swig from the large water bottle he had carefully placed on the table, then another, before asking, “How long are you planning on working on that thing?”</p><p>Connor looked up in time to watch the man wipe a palm across his damp mouth. He swallowed. “Until it’s done. I have a goal.”</p><p>“And you always gotta accomplish your goal, right? Smart <em>and</em> stubborn. NASA warned me about you.” Commander Anderson capped the bottle and leaned forward again, a challenge in his eyes. “I bet you can’t get it done before the end of my exercise period.”</p><p>Connor scoffed. “I <em>am</em> an engineer. Give me the materials, and I can make anything happen. You’re on.”</p><p>They sat in silence for the next seventeen minutes as Connor worked quickly and carefully to complete the structure he’d set out to build. When he finished with two minutes to spare, he sat back, satisfied and smug. “I win the bet, Commander. What’s my prize?”</p><p>Commander Anderson grinned and stood, stretching his arms behind his back, then answered, “My continued respect.” Connor snorted and refrained from staring at the strip of belly displayed beneath the lifted hem of his t-shirt.</p><p>The commander rolled his shoulders and gave Connor a considering look. “If you could have anything, what would it be?”</p><p>Connor tipped his head back in contemplation. “I’ve always had a thing for french fries. My brother calls it a fetish.” At the answering laugh, Connor tilted his head. “What about you? What do you wish you could have right now, but can’t?”</p><p>The look that flashed across the commander’s face was startling in its intensity, and Connor held his breath for a heartbeat. When he breathed out, the look was gone, covered by the amiable amusement from a moment before. But there was a new fondness softening the creases around Commander Anderson’s eyes and the line of his mouth. “I’ve got all I want right here, Connor.”</p><p>And then he bent down, gently placing his palms, fingers spread, against the tabletop. “There is one thing I want to do, though,” he said, voice rumbling low. Connor watched, mesmerized into silence as the commander stretched a hand out across the table toward him, slowly. Then he abruptly grabbed a card from the bottom of the tower and called, “Jenga!” with the biggest shit-eating grin Connor had ever seen on his face.</p><p>Connor’s meticulously constructed creation came crashing down, and so did Commander Anderson’s composure. He positively glowed with mirth, but Connor couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed. Though he did impotently flick a fallen card at the commander as he quickly retreated from the room, Connor’s heart was light. And when his commander’s laughter reached him from down the corridor, Connor’s echoed back.</p>
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